


one more chance

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: rareprompts [16]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 21:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4494969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the afternoon drags on, they talk about the weather these days, and the endless piles of paperwork that await in their respective offices.</p><p>Nothing has changed between them. Daichi's warmth remains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one more chance

**Author's Note:**

> For Weiyan, who asked for DaiSuga angst. I honestly can't believe she made me do this, but... it turned out to be a really personal piece that means a lot to me. I hope you like it.
> 
> I listened to "One More Time, One More Chance" from the Byousoku 5 CM soundtrack while writing, because I hate myself, and if you, too, hate happiness, you can do the same.

They meet again in all the smallest of ways.

 

 

//

 

 

Under the buzzing halogen light of a supermarket aisle, he picks up a head of cabbage and thinks about dinner, tonkatsu with salad. It's easy. He can make the marinade in his sleep, and there's mayo and breadcrumbs he needs to use up. Daichi, at his elbow, reminds him to load up on the meat, because he'll need his strength. They don't have matches to play, not anymore, but still - Suga, without his strength, is insubstantial. A ghost in the wind.

 

 

They meet in a garden, on a warm June day. The sunlight's hazy, dreamlike, almost; Suga takes a breath, blows lightly, and watches each speck of dandelion fuzz float away under his nose. The grass tickles his ankles, so he kicks off his slippers and lets them tickle the soles of his feet as well. They ran, once, in a field just like this, with summer in bloom, irises and the promise of youth on the horizon; they were on a class trip in their first year of high school and the world lay fragile in the palms of their hands. Carefully, together, they clasped it.

 

 

In the lobby of his office building one afternoon, Suga sees a young man in a suit staring at him. He has chestnut brown hair, slightly mussed, and there's something about his gaze that rings faint bells in Suga's memory, but in the end it's not his eyes, or the freckles on his cheeks, that give it away. It's the way the lift _dings_ and he steps forward purposefully, and _there_ \- in that one movement - Suga remembers Ikejiri, wearing a jacket of white and sky blue. He remembers the solemn vow Daichi made to him, the last time they met in a corridor; remembers a quivering lower lip holding back tears, and most of all, the sheer purity of heartbreak back then, when a loss was a loss in black and white. Sometimes, he nearly longs for the beautiful simplicity of it. When you never _quite_ let yourself go entirely to pieces, you can't put yourself back together again either.

 

 

Caught in a sudden downpour, he runs for the nearest bus stop one block down. He's forgotten his umbrella, and, somewhere along the way, his inhibitions; he breathes in the smell of rain on asphalt and lets himself smile as they meet once again, Daichi brushing past his arm as he sidesteps a puddle. They're not the perfect model third-years that everyone thinks they are; sometimes, they skip out on cram school without telling their parents and steal away in search of sunlight, and sometimes, they find the rain instead, and it's just as wonderful. To live. To be alive, under a sky that's pouring out its heart. Huddled for warmth beneath his shelter, Suga wraps his arms tight around himself, and listens to the soothing _pitter-patter_ on the sidewalk.

 

 

They don't meet when Suga's going through photo albums, or when he happens to find his old Karasuno jersey hidden in the back of his wardrobe. That's too cliche - far too cliche - and Suga tires of the predictable, after a while. He's learned to treasure those memories for what they are. They make him smile, _genuinely_ smile, because he had them, and he was lucky to have them and to call Daichi his friend and his captain, and three years of chasing a shared dream, side by side, is more than some people ever get with the love of their life.

 

 

Their paths cross, now and then. There are only so many people in the world. They sit down together, have coffee - sugary and milky for Suga, long black for Daichi - and sometimes, Suga orders strawberry shortcake to go with. Sometimes, Daichi asks for another fork and they share. They talk about Hinata and Kageyama, now playing in the National Team; they talk about Asahi coaching the new generation. They're happy for him, truly; and as the afternoon drags on, they talk about the weather these days, and the endless piles of paperwork that await in their respective offices.

Nothing has changed between them. Daichi's warmth remains.

 

 

When they wave goodbye, and Daichi gets on the train for his long ride back, they always hold each other's gazes for a moment longer than the _sayonara_ on their lips. And Suga knows what he's thinking, knows that Daichi knows too. This is the truth they chose together, the truth of certainty and settling and safety in a partnership that's seen them through so much. They never spoke of any other possibility.

(That window's closed, now, and they never will.)

 

 

//

 

 

Still, at night, when Suga meets Daichi in the field of stars that dot his dreams, he can't bring himself to turn his face from that phantom kiss, because he knows that when he wakes, they'll only meet again in ways that he's made up in his mind.

He closes his eyes. Lets Daichi's lips graze his. Pretends, _just for tonight_ , they were reckless and foolhardy, that they were braver, and less worldly-wise, than they were in their waking hours.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (This hits very close to home for me because I'm sure we've all had that one person in our life, that big what-if who could've been someone more - if only - circumstances, and so on... and I hope I managed to bring out a little bit of that here, for DaiSuga.)


End file.
